45. A Gamble Against Time (7)
One of the Twelve Divine Months, Silver Age November.
His power, which allowed him to look upon the past, present, and future all at once—and to turn time back, bring it forward, or even stop it—was truly unique even among the Divine Moons.
“Well then, what kind of poker game do you like?”
Silver Age November, wearing a long white beard like some immortal sage, asked Baek Yuseol.
As if he had come prepared beforehand, Baek Yuseol answered without a moment’s hesitation.
“Seven Poker.”
“Seven Poker, hm.”
It was one of the most famous poker variants, and in the Korea where Baek Yuseol had once lived, it had practically been synonymous with poker itself.
There was no special reason he chose that game. Easier to beat Silver Age November, who manipulated time, with it?
As if.
It was just because it was the only kind of poker whose rules he more or less knew.
He didn’t really know how to play poker well, and he was such a beginner that he even had to check the hand rankings one by one through his woodpecker glasses.
And here was the important point.
In Seven Poker, cards are dealt one at a time as the betting begins, but the players themselves almost never need to touch the cards.
In other words, that meant dirty tricks like switching cards were impossible from the start. Even if it were somehow possible when briefly flipping cards over to reveal them, the mana sensors stationed everywhere and the Garam Tribe guards would expose it in no time.
“…Shall we begin right away?”
The dealer approached and asked cautiously, reading the room.
He was not watching Baek Yuseol’s expression.
He was watching the expression of the tyrant of Lotus Inn, Silver Age November.
“Well, sure. What’s the stake?”
“One million.”
“Kehehe. At your age, you’re about to learn a bitter lesson.”
Following Baek Yuseol’s lead, the Divine Moon also placed the stake on the table.
“Deal.”
The game began.
With the long table between them, the dealer carefully distributed three cards each to Baek Yuseol and the Divine Moon.
They each checked their hands and then laid all three cards face-down.
From this moment on, you could say half the outcome had already been decided.
Some people began with an excellent hand from the start, while others ended up with such hopeless trash that even with four more cards to come, there was no way to complete a proper ranking.
‘Poker face.’
It referred to the expression one wore to hide emotion so the opponent could not read one’s cards. For Baek Yuseol, who possessed the Blessing of Crimson Spring March, it was absurdly easy, so he maintained a blank expression throughout.
Silver Age November, however, was different.
He kept smiling to himself, then flipped over one of his cards. Baek Yuseol followed suit and flipped over one as well.
“I will deal the next card.”
Once the revealed cards were on the table, the dealer dealt them each one more card.
That newly dealt card was also revealed, and then the betting began.
Baek Yuseol glanced at his cards, then declared a “half,” betting half the current pot.
“Hmmm…”
Silver Age November stared hard at his face, but there was not a single clue to be found there. There was nothing more he could do for now, so he placed his bet.
“Call.”
The game progressed quickly.
Neither Baek Yuseol nor the Divine Moon hesitated at all when it came to putting down large amounts of money, and the dealer, drenched in cold sweat, dealt the cards at a rapid pace.
“Call, and four million.”
“Call, and eight million.”
The dealer had prided himself on having witnessed quite a few battles between true heavyweights, but even so, this was a first for him.
‘What kind of nerve does that student have?’
Judging by the way he threw down staggering sums of money without batting an eye, he definitely looked like the child of some famous noble family. But even so, wasn’t this far too much money to lose just for the sake of learning a life lesson?
Silver Age November, too, was shoving money around in a strangely reckless way, unlike his usual cautious self. He was barely even looking at his own hand.
And so, with all seven cards dealt and the game nearing its final stage—
when the betting had ended with the pot swollen to a tremendous size,
their cards were revealed.
Baek Yuseol’s hand: White Straight.
Silver Age November’s hand: Two Pair.
‘I lost.’
Silver Age November stroked his beard.
He had no choice now but to lose everything he had wagered up to this point.
At that moment, the Divine Moon closed his eyes—
and then opened them again.
“…Half.”
Five minutes earlier.
Back to the moment when Baek Yuseol made his first bet.
In other words, he refocused once more on the “present.”
His future self had lost. So this time, he acted differently here.
“Fold.”
Why put money into a game you already knew you would lose?
He had thought he was headed for a fairly good hand, but with the Divine Moon folding immediately, Baek Yuseol was left helpless.
The next game went much the same way.
“Double!”
“…Fold.”
“Raise!”
“…Fold.”
“Kehehe. Good, good.”
Silver Age November’s method was simple.
By “observing” the present and the future simultaneously, he first checked the outcome that would occur in the future, and then behaved differently in the present.
Having already peeked ahead, the Divine Moon folded whenever Baek Yuseol had the advantage, and whenever he himself had the better hand, he wagered heavily and stripped Baek Yuseol of his money.
‘As expected, this game isn’t a game at all.’
‘He may be from Stella, but there’s no way some kid could beat the finest gambler around.’
Silver Age November was known as the tyrant of Lotus Inn.
No one could ever defeat him in card games, and on top of that, his magical skill was so formidable that no one could throw him out by force, either.
Whenever he showed up, people were forced to play cards with him, and every time he would drain the inn dry of money and then leave.
Not a tyrant, really.
Just a thug. A straight-up thug.
So with a mere student charging in without knowing anything, he ought to have been crying tears of blood by now—
‘Hm?’
‘What?’
That was why everyone present felt the same question arise at the exact same time.
“Call.”
Even after losing nearly half his money already, Baek Yuseol continued the game with the same deadpan face.
‘Does that much money really mean nothing to him?’
If he were unbelievably rich, that would explain it—but no matter how much money a person had, when a game began to go badly, even a professional gambler’s expression would inevitably sour.
But Baek Yuseol maintained an air of ease the entire time.
Either he truly didn’t care about losing money,
or else…
“Raise!”
Silver Age November shoved forward more coins and made a powerful bet, and the Garam Tribe guards watching nearby shook their heads with cold sweat rolling down their backs.
‘There he goes again.’
The fact that he was acting like this after receiving only two cards meant one thing:
he was clearly certain of victory.
Whenever the Divine Moon bet like that, he always won. So this round would obviously be the same.
And yet—
Baek Yuseol did not respond immediately. He rested his chin on his hand and thought for a moment, then turned to the dealer and said:
“Dealer. Before you deal the next card, would you shuffle the deck once?”
“Huh? Pardon?”
“There’s no reason you can’t, is there?”
“Well, um… no, I suppose not…”
“Wait! What are you talking about?”
Only then did the Divine Moon, sounding flustered, open his mouth.
“Why would there be any need to shuffle the deck? We can proceed as we are.”
“I’m not the one shuffling. The dealer is. What possible problem is there with that?”
“Well, that may be true, but…”
Since nothing like this had ever happened before, Silver Age November was thrown badly off balance.
In this round, he had been destined to make a Full House while Baek Yuseol ended with a Straight.
But in the “future” he had observed, there had been no case where the dealer shuffled the deck in the middle of the hand.
And if the deck were shuffled now, after such large bets had already been placed…
then even the Divine Moon would no longer be able to predict the outcome.
Even if he tried to peek ahead into the future again right now, it was too late. Even for Silver Age November, “time reversion”—turning back an event that had already occurred—was impossible.
“I will reveal the hands.”
Baek Yuseol: White Straight.
The Divine Moon: Triple.
‘…I lost.’
Baek Yuseol’s hand had actually risen by one stage, while the Divine Moon’s had plunged into the abyss.
“Well now. Would you look at that.”
Never in his life had something like this happened before, and the Divine Moon let out a hollow chuckle.
A variable had intruded mid-game, contaminating the future itself. As Baek Yuseol gathered the Divine Moon’s money, he said:
“It seems you were originally holding a very good hand.”
“Hm? Ah, yes. That was how it was supposed to go.”
“And then I had the deck shuffled, so your hand ranking fell apart.”
“Well… that is true, but…”
But that had only occurred in the future.
There was no way Baek Yuseol should have noticed that, and yet the way he said it felt almost as though he had seen the very same scene the Divine Moon had.
“We will resume the match.”
After that, the same pattern kept repeating.
Whenever Baek Yuseol drew a good hand, the Divine Moon folded.
Whenever the Divine Moon drew a good hand, Baek Yuseol asked for the deck to be shuffled.
But simply introducing the variable of a “card shuffle” did not guarantee that Baek Yuseol would win.
There were plenty of cases where, even in futures the Divine Moon had not predicted because of that new variable, Baek Yuseol still lost.
And likewise—
there were also plenty of cases where the Divine Moon lost.
Neither side was particularly skilled at poker. In terms of mind games and technique, they were no different from ordinary people.
That meant the two of them were playing Seven Poker in its purest form.
‘Well now…’
The Divine Moon clicked his tongue.
The future was shifting from moment to moment.
Do you know the term butterfly effect?
Since it was such a famous expression, he skipped the explanation and went straight to the conclusion:
every tiny action Baek Yuseol took brought about a butterfly effect.
The future is not fixed.
Depending on what happens in the present, countless possibilities and probabilities branch off, and along those currents, the future appears.
But the moment “randomness” enters the picture, even the Divine Moon can no longer predict what lies ahead.
For example, suppose you were playing odd-even with three dice in a cup.
Inside the cup, the dice crash into the walls, strike each other, and roll about, generating an infinite number of combinations.
Chance upon chance upon chance upon chance, piling on top of one another to produce countless outcomes.
3, 4, 1.
2, 6, 6.
1, 3, 2.
Even if he looked at the same future, thousands upon tens of thousands of futures would arise, and Silver Age November could not predict what numbers would appear in an odd-even dice game five minutes later.
The ability to observe the present and future simultaneously.
It sounded like a wonderful power.
But in truth, it was nothing more—and nothing less—than the ability to calculate probabilities.
Because time was far too vast and magnificent for any one being to rule over.
When people thought of the Twelve Divine Months, they might easily imagine them as beings who “ruled over certain attributes.”
Blue Winter December ruled ice.
Red Summer June ruled flames.
Crimson Spring March ruled the heart.
But—
that was a misunderstanding from the ground up.
They did not rule those attributes.
They merely understood the flow of those attributes better than anyone else.
“Call, and double.”
“Gnn…”
There was likely no one alive who understood time better than Silver Age November.
…Unless, that is, his opponent happened to be a transmigrator who understood time travelers thoroughly.
Baek Yuseol generated countless accidents, countless strokes of chance, even within a single game.
Betting without even looking at his cards.
Requesting a shuffle.
Asking one of the Garam Tribe members watching from behind to scatter the deck.
‘I can no longer know the future.’
The fixed future kept changing, again and again.
For Silver Age November, that was terror.
And despair.
It felt like being dropped into the middle of a vast ocean with both limbs bound and even his vision covered.
And yet, at the same time…
a sharp thrill crept deliciously up his spine.
“Hahaha! I win!”
That had been a game he was supposed to lose.
But every time Silver Age November placed a bet, Baek Yuseol kept generating “randomness,” and the Divine Moon, instead of fearing it, took advantage of that very fact and bet heavily—
and won.
This too—
was chance.
He might have lost.
He might have won.
He staked the pot on a future that had not been decided—
and in the end, he won.
“…I lost.”
As Baek Yuseol laid down his cards, the Divine Moon chuckled and swept the mountain of coins toward himself.
“Isn’t it fun?”
“Yes, it is! With this money I can drink a thousand years’ worth of dongdongju to my heart’s content!”
“Is that really why you’re happy?”
“What?”
Only then did the Divine Moon lift his head and meet Baek Yuseol’s eyes.
Within those eyes…
something strangely subtle passed by.
And the Divine Moon found himself thinking it felt familiar.
“There was something I wanted to ask you no matter what, if I ever met you.”
Silver Age November, who had been greedily sweeping in coins like an overgrown child, stopped, let them go, and dropped back into his chair. Folding his arms, he jerked his chin.
“Ask.”
“Is this world’s future fixed?”
“…Well now. You’re asking as though you know exactly who I am.”
Silver Age November frowned as though it gave him a headache, but soon let out a deep sigh.
After all, was it not obvious?
That insolent human brat had come here already knowing his true identity.
And so—
he answered calmly.
“The future is fixed.”
Silver Age November could observe countless futures, and those futures branched into a vast number of timelines.
But even if there were countless futures—
their ending was all the same.
‘This world is destroyed ten years from now.’
All futures, no matter how many directions they branched into, were racing toward one and the same final destination.
Toward the terminal point called destruction.
A fixed future could not be stopped.
It could not be defied.
Silver Age November was merely someone who swam a little better than others in the waterfall called time.
While everyone else was helplessly swept downward beneath the falls, he alone possessed the tiny, special ability to struggle, struggle, and barely swim against the torrent.
But to change the fact that the waterfall itself plunged from above to below—
that was absolutely impossible.
And so,
Baek Yuseol asked again.
“Is the future… really fixed?”
“What?”
“Did you foresee your own victory just now?”
No.
He had merely swum through the vast open sea of an undecided future, playing poker like a man discovering a deserted island by sheer chance.
“…That’s a difficult question.”
Silver Age November.
In exchange for the ability to move against the flow of time, he had come to understand one truth:
a fixed future could not be changed.
From the moment he grasped that truth, it became his shackle and his curse, and for more than a thousand years he had never once been able to escape it.
But—
what if there were someone who could create even the tiniest variable, like a ripple on a still lake…
and make a fixed future move in a different direction?
Something very small.
So small that even in a simple game like poker…
what if there existed someone capable of changing the future?
“The future is not fixed.”
At first glance, it could have sounded like pure insolence.
To dare speak of time in front of Silver Age November.
And yet the old man merely nodded calmly at the boy’s words.
“I see…”
He could not even properly predict a simple poker game.
And yet he called himself the Divine Moon of Silver Time?
“I came all the way here to gamble with you.”
It was the first time in his life.
An opponent whose results he could not predict, even in gambling.
Any wager with such a person could only ever be a loss for Silver Age November.
Because even the future that had supposedly already been decided had been changed, to the point that its outcome could no longer be known.
“The terms of the gamble are simple.”
And now that very boy proposed yet another wager.
“Ten years from now—whether the world will be destroyed or not.”
Ting!
The boy flicked his last remaining coin toward the old man.
“I’m going all in on ‘it will not be destroyed’… with my entire life.”
